Seven Hours 'til I Get To Come Back Home
by dahliadenoire
Summary: University. Makoto/Haruka. Makoto wasn't his world. He was more like his daily breakfast, his apartment keys, his umbrella on a rainy day, or even his other sock. These are the considerably trivial things that when lost, can ruin a person's day. So when Haruka moved to Tokyo to attend the same university as him, he starts visiting Makoto's apartment in Chiba a little too often.
1. Intro

If Haruka could list all the things he hated, noise and crowds would be among them. Unfortunately for him, Narita Airport was both of it combined.

When he arrived in the absurdly large airport after a 45-minute flight from Iwatobi, he was greeted by no one, other than shadowy strangers and occasional foreigners with their big bags and spinners while Haruka stood there almost to the point of cluelessness with only a heavy gym bag of clothes. To be honest, he felt afraid, even just for a moment. Where was the exit? Why was it so bright? Why were there so much people? Why was it so cold? Would he look stupid if he asked directions? Despite this his face remained calm, but his pale hands were sweating regardless of the harsh air-conditioning. Haruka stood frozen in place for a good few seconds and took about a minute more to gain the courage to walk out of the domestic terminal's arrival gate. With the LED lights and confusing signs and the increasing amount of people, he walked alongside passengers from the plane. As it was already seven in the evening, it wouldn't be a good idea to waste time, but even so Haruka opted it would be best to sit down in one of the many waiting areas to regain tranquility.

He realized he could've just taken the bullet train route, but that scared him even more, considering he had to transfer several times between lines and endure stopovers to get to Tokyo. To think that he also had to endure travelling alone for more than 45 minutes. Haruka preferred the plane. It was easier to book. Besides, Haruka always had the notion that train stations were harder to venture into.

He slid his phone so it would lit up. There were no new messages. A text or call from his parents would be helpful but nothing came. Haruka chose not to get his hopes up. His parents lived in a condominium in Shinjuku, too busy at work to even fetch their own son from the airport. What was up with that anyway? A perfectly sane mother would be excited to see her only son after years of separation. A perfectly sane father would drive his car to the airport to give his son a ride home. Haruka found it hard to empathize, since he himself wasn't too eager to reunite with his family. Perhaps indifference and stoicism runs in the family.

Fiddling with his blue phone, he remembered receiving instructions on how to go to his parent's home the day before his flight. He expected it would be easy, but when the poor boy reread the text message from his mother, he was at complete loss.

"Buy a ticket to Shinjuku Station," Haru muttered as he read the message. Okay, first things first. Buy a ticket. It should be easy, right? He stood up, but then sat down again as a nervous sigh escaped from his lips. "Where the hell do I buy it?" Was it a bus ticket? Or a train ticket? He clicked his tongue. Could his mother be any vaguer? He texted her about his worries but she never replied. Busy, most likely. His head looked right and left, his silky black hair flowing in respective directions, trying to look for anything that sells tickets. He regretted not having to research first. It was his first time traveling alone, in the capital at that. He was torn between asking for help from the airport staff and rushing in to battle by himself.

He was alone. Completely alone. So, he let himself relax in his frosty seat.

And all he could think about was wanting to swim.

He wanted to completely submerge himself in the water and mute every annoying sound that the stupid airport makes. Closing his eyes, he breathed in deep through his nose and then exhaled audibly. Haruka tried to replace the beeps of machines and endless murmuring of strangers into the sounds of the ocean waves hitting rocks and restlessly and boundlessly embracing the shore. It calmed him down for a second. He already missed the waters of Iwatobi. He had never been outside of his usual environment alone, outside the peaceful provincial atmosphere of Iwatobi, outside the presence of friends. But he wasn't alone for too long.

"Haru."

His eyes snapped open. The waves were gone and he was back in the airport. Oceanic blue eyes glistened at the tall outline of a man that shadowed over him.

Surprised, he let out a breathy, "Makoto?"

And the said man smiled. Haruka had never been so happy to see that same smile he had been seeing ever since they met. Makoto's hand was reaching out, and his towering build had the same posture whenever he pulled Haruka out of the pool.

Before responding to the kind gesture, Haruka asked, "How…?"

To Makoto, his question seemed incomplete. "_How_ did I know you're here? Your mom told me you were arriving today." Haruka let himself be pulled up, possessing that feeling that his friend had already heard the voice inside his head. "She said you already knew the way, but I figured Haru wouldn't know how to go to Shinjuku."

There he was talking too much again after a simple question. And what did he meant when he said he wouldn't know how to go to Shinjuku? Was he mocking him? Haruka scoffed at himself. No, Makoto wasn't like that. There wasn't even a hint of arrogance in his tone. It was more along the lines of genuine concern, as always.

Haruka joked with narrowed eyes and a frown, "Just a few weeks in Tokyo and you're already this cocky?" He heard Makoto laugh inoffensively and apologize so he looked to the side and mumbled, "I know how to go to Shinjuku."

"Hm? But it seems like you were sleeping earlier," Makoto said innocently.

"I was tired."

"Do you have a ticket, then?"

"A ticket to what?"

"I thought you knew."

Haruka wasn't even sure anymore if Makoto was hiding his arrogance beneath that smile of his. And he decided it would be hopeless to go against someone who totally knew what he was thinking. Makoto wore that face—the face whenever he went inside his best friend's mind. "_Fine_. I don't, okay? Just get me out of here."

It _was_ the train after all, Haruka thought, watching Makoto do nothing but stare into space. Haruka sat on the window seat with Makoto next to him. There were still a lot of people, but it was unnervingly quieter. Probably because it was a Sunday, even though it was already the evening rush hour. The train didn't make much noise and the people were either asleep or too busy tampering their smartphones.

"She didn't tell me it was Narita Express," Haruka said in a low voice, embarrassed as he scrutinized the 'JR East NEX' letters on his ticket. He really shouldn't be especially when it came to Makoto, but he couldn't help feeling a little ashamed. He crossed his arms and looked out the window to see nothing but black and dark metal scaffoldings and blurred city lights.

There was a soft laugh and a smile afterwards. "I was just like you when I first arrived here. You shouldn't feel embarrassed at all. And I've only been in the city for three weeks so once we get to Shinjuku I would be just as lost as you."

"Where do you live again?" Haruka knew of course, since Makoto kept his texts to a minimum of a hundred per day about his first days in Chiba and Tokyo, but he just wanted to keep the conversation going while changing the subject all the while. He removed his vision from the windows and focused his gaze to Makoto who looked at him just as earnestly.

"Me? Chiba. I've told you that before, I think? Mom and dad insist that I live somewhere in Tokyo near Haru but I didn't want to burden them so much. It's really too expensive. My tuition is already a bother so I want to cut expenses as much as possible. And the apartment we rented was half the price of studio types in Tokyo."

He was such a saint, Haruka thought. A selfless, noble saint. "But we're attending Waseda," Haruka said, secretly happy to say they were both attending the same university. Then, he asked, eyebrows furrowing. "Why'd you have to live so far?" He could tell Makoto was glad that he was worrying over him just by looking at his buoyant, green eyes.

"Don't worry," Makoto gently assured him with his usual smile. "The commute doesn't take too long. I'm only forty minutes away."

He had to look away. Haruka's thoughts were filled with how Makoto was simply too wonderful. So when the train speakers bellowed that they were arriving in Chiba, the boy with the starry blue eyes stood up abruptly and began walking towards the train exit.

"H-Haru?" Makoto frantically called out and got out of his seat as well, trying to catch up to Haruka. "We aren't in Shinjuku yet!"

The train came to a stop, slowly, but quietly, unlike the screeching trains in Iwatobi. Innocently, Haruka waited until the high-tech doors open, not paying attention to any of Makoto's warnings behind him.

"Haru!" he called out again.

It was too late. They were on the platform and the train was already leaving. The night was still young and Haruka couldn't quite describe Makoto's expression.

"Haru…" He mentioned his name again, this time with a voice coated with both kindness and surrender. But mostly surrender. Haruka didn't talk, as if waiting for the right timing. Instead, he began to walk away from the platform, feeling the weight of his gym bag over his shoulder again.

Haruka's silent steps stopped when Makoto blocked him, his big hands grasping both of his narrow shoulders. And that was when Haruka might have completely lost his guard, because as soon as his deep-sea eyes were snared by Makoto's green ones, he knew he was trapped.

He looked away desperately. Maybe a little too desperately. Makoto was going inside his head again.

Then he felt his grip lighten. So he looked back.

"You want to go to my place." It was more of a fact, the way Makoto said it. He didn't need to imply his words as a question. Because he knew. "What about your parents?"

Haruka frowned and looked at the platform floors that were surprisingly clean. He got to thinking. He might've acted impulsively when he got off the train, but he wasn't sure exactly what made him do it. "I'll tell them I got lost."

Makoto sighed. "They would blame me too, you know."

Haruka knew he didn't need to say anything else, didn't need to add anymore. Makoto had already read him. There was no escaping whenever he did that.

The one with green eyes just smiled, the usual sunny smile, a smile so sunny it felt like it bright as day, and Haruka was simply enchanted, by his warmth, by his kindness, by his touch. Makoto still had his hands on his shoulders, but it was light, like there was no weight at all. Haruka surrendered, finally, and stared straight into Makoto's eyes. Surrendered because he decided to speak.

"I want to stay at your place tonight."

And so they did. They might have spent a little too much on tickets since their original destination was Shinjuku and they both knew that didn't work out well. It was worth a thousand yen more than a ticket to Chiba. Then there was the starless night, a bus ride, short walks from one street to another, expensive-looking cars going back and forth from his vision, and the insufferable city lights. He relied on Makoto all throughout and had wanted to touch him, any part of him—his hand maybe or even just the sleeve of his jacket. He could say he was afraid of getting lost, even though the area where Makoto was living in wasn't exactly that urban, and had more of this residential feel to it. Although it was Tokyo's next door neighbor, Makoto's side of Chiba was quiet and suburban. Haruka liked it more than he expected.

"We're here," Makoto said, guiding Haruka by the wrist as he opened the door.

Makoto's apartment building appeared modern on the outside but became somewhat traditional on the inside. From the entrance, Haruka observed the three doors ahead, one north, one east, and one west, with only one butter-colored ceiling lamp illuminating the surroundings.

On the recessed and concrete part of the entrance, Makoto supported himself with his hand on the wall when he was in the midst of taking off his sneakers. He apologized, untying the strings of his shoes, "Sorry, it's still a bit messy. I haven't had the time to—!"

He was caught off-guard by Haruka by standing only on one leg. Then there was a loud thump on the ground when Makoto fell on the wooden elevated portion of the entryway. His eyes closed from the impact, so when tried to open it, the first thing he saw was Haruka's silky black hair.

"Haru?"

He stopped and finally noticed the weight of Haruka on his body. They were already down on the wooden floor when Makoto realized Haruka had tackled him, his arms tightly securing his wider waist.

Haruka hid his face in Makoto's chest and was tempted to fall apart above Makoto's warm, familiar figure. Because he missed him so much. He couldn't even begin to explain how much. He closed his eyes shut because he had wanted to tackle him ever since they reunited in the airport. But he couldn't at that time and held back. Makoto was good at holding back, and since Haruka knew he would be too shy to take initiative, he did him a favor by initiating the first move.

He wasn't able to see Makoto's face, but Haruka guessed it would be all red and confused. So he hugged him tighter.

How could three weeks without Makoto be so painful? Did Makoto missed him just as much as he did? He needed to know if there were times that Makoto would smile and think of him for absolutely no reason, if there were times he couldn't sleep at night and had to hug a pillow for comfort, if there were times he couldn't just _breathe_ because they were just so far apart. It was painful. Because that was how it was for Haruka. There were mornings he woke up disappointed, afternoons when he forgot to get out of the bathtub, subconsciously waiting for Makoto to wrap a towel around him, and nights when he just couldn't breathe.

He wondered about how Makoto would react until he felt strong arms wrap around his entire upper body. And Haruka felt like he was at sea, his big, strong arms hugging him the way the waves embraced the shore. There was that same sense of peace whenever he was streaming against the cool, serene water. Makoto was the sea, the waves, and his own form of water.

Makoto didn't even need to look at his eyes to know what Haruka wanted to say.

"I missed you too," he confessed, his voice strained and low. Haruka loved his low voice, because he knew he only used it during the highest point of his gentleness, of his emotions, of his love. The boy on top clenched the fabric of Makoto's jacket, moderately clawing his back. And Makoto reacted back and continued to stir and shift his arms because he felt like his embrace wasn't strong enough and he buried his face into Haruka's locks of dark hair.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you," Makoto murmured softly, and was loud enough for Haruka as he was speaking right next to his ear. He sounded so loving and the fact that he said the words Haruka wanted to hear made his heart flutter. "I couldn't sleep for three weeks." Haruka felt a hand on the back of his head, running through tresses of black, pulling him closer, again and again. Makoto breathed out, "And the truth is, I would've gone insane if Haru hadn't come here."

Blue, blue eyes sparkled and widened. Haruka had never felt so relieved. Makoto never woke up disappointed in the morning because he barely even slept. He was relieved because Makoto was suffering just as he was when he thought he was the only one. Because the thought of Makoto forgetting him and replacing him was far too unbearable. It didn't help one bit that Haruka grew so accustomed to his warmth and kindness and affection that having to touch and feel him and hear his quickening heartbeat were all he needed to survive.

Haruka sensed Makoto's chest heave, then the tall man beneath him kissed the side of his head before speaking ever so soothingly.

"I love you."

And for the first time that day, Haruka smiled, his lips curving against Makoto's chest. "I know."

* * *

**A/N: From this point on, every chapter will be university hijinks, lovey-dovey flashbacks, domestic antics, sweet shenanigans, and cute couples doing cute mundane things. I began to work on this even before the writers of Free! mentioned something about Makoto going to Tokyo. (I kinda want that to happen to the show though, except the whole forgetting high school part)**

**Sorry if the airport and locations parts are too technical. Being a tourism student, I spent the entire semester researching about airports and transportation and booking reservations and ticketing and shit. Lol it would be easier for Haru if he landed on Haneda though. Also lolwat because there are no night schedules for Chiba at night in Narita Express.**

**This fic is a certified "Angst-Free!" by the Federal No-Angst Organization.**

**Thank you for reading! Also posted in AO3.**

**(Title from the song Seven Hours by Lucy Schwartz and Aqualung.)**


	2. Hands

Even way back in kindergarten, it was always Haruka who would dispel all of Makoto's anxiety and fears. Haruka was rarely ever nervous, so there were only a few chances for Makoto to help him get over it. Haruka was always the one who would hold his hand whenever there was a trace of nervousness on Makoto's face, the one who would grab his hand and run away when Makoto was scared, and the one who would cup his cheek with his pale hands to calm him down. Makoto loved Haruka's hands. His hands were soft, somehow bony, but still soft. They were rather small to be possessed by a guy. Makoto loved the pearly suppleness of his fingers and his palms, and its ability to magically calm every nerve on his body. No matter how much Haruka's hands got pruned, how oily it got whenever he cooked, Makoto loved it.

Then he looked at his. His hands were bigger, and his fingers were longer. The back of his hand was slightly tanned, unlike Haruka's pale ones. His hands were rough and huge and stiff and he wondered whether Haruka hated having to touch them most of the time.

Makoto closed his eyes and breathed in deep, inhaling the immaculate spring air. He was thinking too much. He already had a lot on his mind and thinking about how he missed Haruka's hand wasn't going to help at all.

Classes started on the 1st of April. In the midst of blooming cherry trees and the spring breeze, Makoto was inwardly shaking, standing in front of the private university's memorial hall he kept seeing in brochures. The building was beige and bricked and resembled a clock tower. People surrounded him in all directions, and Makoto wondered whether they were freshmen or seniors. He admitted being extremely nervous. Who wouldn't? He was back to being a freshman, a new blood, and in a prestigious university at that. It was unexpected, even for him, to have been accepted in Waseda after failing to get the quota grade in the University of Tokyo and Keio. Tokyo U was such a big name that Makoto wasn't sure he would get in even from the start.

Students crowded the area and he could barely see the ground. A sigh seeped out from his mouth. Mentally scolding himself for being such a coward. He tensed, sweat rolling on the side of his face despite the cool morning. He rubbed his shaky hands together and slapped his cheeks. An audible sigh, then a pursing of the lips.

"Makoto," He heard an intimate voice say, along with the loud rustling of trees and the murmuring of strangers. The shaking of his hands stopped.

He felt it. The warmth in his hands, the softness, the familiarity—everything from Haruka. And he turned around just as the wind hummed a springtime song underway. Makoto mumbled quietly, luminous green eyes widening. "Haru…"

Haruka held his rough hand delicately and the trembling was disappeared. In just one second, his worries were gone, and all he could think about was the warmth of Haruka's hands.

"Even though I commuted from Shinjuku, you still got here first." Makoto forgot to reply, his quietness causing Haruka to worry. Their eyes met for a moment and that moment was all Haruka needed to know what Makoto was thinking. "…You're nervous, aren't you?"

Makoto felt the grip in his hands tighten, and that was when he rushed back to reality.

"Well... yeah," Makoto said, almost apologetically. He didn't want Haruka to worry. Judging from the shorter boy's knitted eyebrows and blue eyes, Makoto could tell he was concerned. He smiled. "But it's fine. Somehow I'm not that nervous anymore, holding your hand like this."

After hearing that, Haruka then took hold of both of his large hands. It surprised Makoto for a while until Haruka spoke, "Then I'll hold them until your nervousness goes away…!"

It was all too cute. Haruka was way beyond cute in times like this. His purity would often cause little heart attacks for Makoto. So he reciprocated and clutched Haruka's hands tighter, massaging it ever so gently with his thumbs. He laughed lovingly, then replied, "Really? Then you might end up holding them the entire day."

"I don't mind."

But to be honest, Makoto's worries already faded away. He wished he could tell Haruka he still was, just so they could hold hands longer. But Haruka might be happier to hear that he wasn't nervous anymore. From the simple cupping of hands, Makoto bent his arms and intertwined his fingers with Haruka. Regardless of the heavy amount of people, Makoto bent down to shyly kiss Haruka's hands, now entwined with his large fingers. "Thank you for being here."

Makoto loved Haruka's hands, how they move, cringe, fold, and how they feel against his own. His hands were like miracles. They were fragile, that every time Makoto would hold them, he felt like the slightest brush would make it bleed. Makoto watched him draw with those hands. He watched him sculpted wood into an aesthetically pleasing carving of a not so aesthetically pleasing mascot of a bird. Haruka's hands were something that couldn't hold still for even a second.

Makoto always thought that his own hands were worthless compared to Haruka's. But despite that, Haruka still held them. He held Makoto's hands as if it was art, as if it was a priceless marble sculpture. And that was when Makoto knew that despite its roughness and ineptitude, his hands were still worth holding.


	3. Umbrella

Maybe the first thing that irked Haruka the most when he first arrived in Tokyo was the overabundance of umbrellas. The fact that the sun wasn't even as strong as it was in Iwatobi and the fact that it was spring confused him even more. If it was for the sake of protecting their skin, Haruka should've had skin cancer by now, after spending all his time swimming either in a pool, or the ocean, if it was calm and waveless. Not even once did he use an umbrella. With the exception of their high school club moderator, Amakata, or Ama-chan, as Nagisa affectionately called her, Haruka never knew anyone who would use an umbrella against the sun in his hometown. But then again, Amakata was originally from Tokyo, so perhaps the umbrella habit came from her stay in the city.

And he realized one midafternoon that he indeed needed an umbrella. Tokyo was a polluted city, no matter how much praise it obtained from fooling people into thinking it was an illustrious city. The streets were covered with so many people, making heat easier to circulate. And for someone who was able to withstand heat and sunlight at such an amazing degree, Haruka finally felt the mixture of the sun and the city kicking in. The crowded, narrow streets of Tokyo never got along well with the sun. And for once Haruka wanted to shield himself from the sun.

He never carried an umbrella. He was ready to walk under the sun, under the sky he so greatly venerated. Umbrellas hindered Haruka from looking at the sky—a spectacle of blue brush strokes and a painting of clouds and the very essence of freedom. For a moment, Haruka might have likened Makoto to the sky. Just like him, the sky was benevolent. One could say the blueness of water was indebted to it. But not once did the sky admonished the sea with terrible words of "you owe me".

Then he caught a glimpse of his very own sky, walking towards him with a smile. The ever kindhearted man who would have held an umbrella over a duck on a rainy day.

Under the scorching sunshine, he could see Makoto panting a little, sweat rolling on the sides of his face. His face showed some sort of apology, as always. "Sorry, did you wait long?"

Haruka wordlessly shook his head. Makoto was late but he just tossed his tardiness aside and decided to forgive him. He could tell he had something to do at school. Makoto was someone who would work too hard and Haruka knew that all too well.

"Hm?" Makoto made a sound and Haruka wondered what caught his attention. "You're sweating."

Haruka looked to his side, away from the direct sunlight. "It's too hot today."

A handkerchief was pulled out. Makoto shifted closer and wiped the sweat on Haruka's forehead, chuckling as he did so. "You don't usually mind heat."

He didn't say anymore, aware that Makoto probably knew what he was going to say.

Makoto just smiled. "Let's buy an umbrella."

Surely, Haruka was used to it by now, but Makoto's telepathy scared him sometimes.

Following the decision to buy an umbrella, Makoto walked on and Haruka scampered until he was beside him. He followed along with a secret smile, walking at a calm pace. Even after years together, Haruka still felt the need to hide his smiles, not because he didn't want Makoto to see it, but because he knew his smile couldn't compare to Makoto's. He looked up next to him for a second to see Makoto's face. He didn't know where they were going, but Haruka appreciated that Makoto would lead them to shade whenever there was a chance.

Then the heat took a toll on him and Haruka felt a momentary sensation of nausea. It lasted only a second, maybe even less, but Makoto knew right away and clutched his wrist. "Haru, you want to go inside first?" he asked, pointing at a coffee shop just a few steps away.

Haruka sighed and yielded to the sun. "Yeah."

Sitting inside the air-conditioned coffee shop, Haruka was on his second iced coffee, feeling a lot more refreshed. He had sweated too much and couldn't handle the water inside his body slowly leaving him. It was unusually hot for a spring day. Springs in Iwatobi were a lot cooler. But the thing was that Haruka had a high tolerance for heat that it made Makoto worry. Haruka himself began to doubt his talent to withstan heat. Even the hottest days of summer barely bothered him, so why would he give in now? His eyes gazed at Makoto who just sat across, sipping his coffee float little by little.

"It's almost May, and the city's more humid," Makoto said, green worried eyes looking over at Haruka. "It must be because of that."

"Un." He bobbed his head when he realized Makoto answered his internal questions.

"Want another?" Makoto asked just as Haruka swallowed the last sip of his iced drink. He shook his head in response. But Makoto still stood up. "I'll just get some water, then."

Haruka glanced around, catching sight of a young couple holding hands and giggling in one table, then a group of high school girls at the corner, then finally the tall figure of Makoto, buying two bottles of water in the counter.

When he sat back down, Haruka discreetly made their knees touch under the table. For a while, Makoto wondered, but when he looked around and saw the same couple Haruka saw, he just smiled. And Haruka just looked to the side, because by that time he knew Makoto would've realized he was craving for any form of physical contact.

Back outside, they headed for the nearest convenience store for the umbrella. The sun was just as harsh and never spared Haruka from its rays. He realized the people's inclination to umbrellas. And he realized that he wasn't in Iwatobi, where the sun was considered as a blessing. He slowed down his pace and let Makoto walk ahead.

"Makoto," Haruka murmured.

Before Makoto could look behind him, Haruka pushed his forehead on Makoto's back and closed his eyes, even breathing out a sigh of relief.

"H-Haru…?"

Makoto thought Haruka was going to hug him. From an outsider's view, it would be a relatively strange sight indeed, but Haruka's arm didn't move an inch. He simply clutched the back fabric of Makoto's shirt.

"Keep walking," Haruka ordered and Makoto curiously obeyed.

As he walked, Haruka's forehead didn't detach from his back.

Makoto couldn't help but laugh. "People are looking."

Haruka couldn't care less, as he was someone who didn't value other people's opinion, unless it was Makoto's. So he didn't care about what people would think when he was taking advantage of Makoto's tall built as an umbrella. The sun was finally out of his face and he noticed that Makoto's back was sweating. He was aware that Makoto didn't mix in with the heat too well, and he felt bad for using him as a shield from the sun, but Makoto didn't mind. Because it was Haruka. When the taller man realized what Haruka was doing, he just smiled and walked along normally, as if there wasn't a person using him as a human umbrella.

"Do you still need an umbrella?"

"Yeah. A green one."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for late update. I've been traveling a lot this semestral break. Chapters tend to be short or long, depends on what happens really. Thank you for reading!**


	4. Bed

For a bachelor type mansion located in the heart of Ichikawa, Makoto's unit wasn't so bad. It was small, but large enough for one person. The unit wasn't luxurious, but it was fully furnished when he got there, was clean and the view from the veranda was pretty okay. The kitchenette was nothing but charming, the cabinets reaching up against the ceiling to maximize space. In the same room was a small table with two chairs, a comfy couch matching a moderately sized television set, and a sliding glass door leading to the veranda. Boxes used to fill most of the available space in the rooms, but Haruka helped him get rid of that. Space was mandatory for a man like him. He was a big guy, even though he forgot his size advantage most of the time, so the ceilings stretched high and it was perfect.

It took an awful lot of time for him to adjust. There was no denying it was a little heartbreaking. He was someone rather family-oriented so it made it hard for him to be alone. His parents weren't there with him and his two siblings, loveable as they may be, weren't there to pester him to play hide-and-seek or force him to play house or invite him in Ran's tea parties. He missed the twins as much as the twins missed him, and they called his phone every hour and learned how to text just to contact him. Makoto wondered if there will ever be the time when they would stop doting on him. It was something inevitable, but he hoped they'd still be affectionate towards him even in their teenage years.

It was a good thing that Haruka had helped him unpack just days before, and boy was he good at it too. The things Makoto did for a day only took Haruka an hour. Maybe it was because he was used to living alone for years. But from the very start, he was aware Haruka was a fast worker when it came to household chores, and he appreciated the helping hand and company.

Surprisingly, Haruka hadn't come to his home all day, even though the dark-haired man recently spent the entire Golden Week at his apartment. Almost every day he would turn up and knock on his door, stay for a while, sometimes an hour, sometimes the whole afternoon, and sometimes until midnight. And it got to him that it was impossible to imagine having to live an entire day without seeing Haruka.

Happy as he may be, he didn't quite understand why Haruka was in the same university as him. Waseda was never in Haruka's top choices. It was one of the best universities, and he believed Haruka was far better than him when it came to academics, but a maritime university was more fitting for Haruka, like Kaiyodai in Shinagawa. He was closer to the waters that way. Then again, that really wouldn't be the most splendid of ideas since Haruka would be surrounded by bodies of water, and there was no stopping him in case he jumped into them.

"Maybe it's for the best," Makoto mumbled to himself. So instead, he was thankful he was in Waseda instead of any other university.

Then, as if in cue with Makoto's thoughts, there were loud knocks coming from the door. And he only had one guess. Similar to how a puppy greets its owner, Makoto rushed to the door and there stood Haruka. The young man invited himself in, holding a paper bag of unknown contents.

"I brought dinner," Haruka confirmed passively, but the eyes showed otherwise. He looked determined somehow, Makoto thought.

Makoto's initial reaction was to hold him close, but he didn't, feeling a bit shy. His excited expression softened into something much more mellow, and he realized just from the sparkling blue eyes that the dinner Haruka held was something he made himself. And so, the newly arrived guest settled in and prepared plates without permission or pleasantries—not that he needed them anyway.

Facing him was Haruka's back, and he could see his muscles contract whenever his arms moved by the kitchen counters. "It's late," Makoto said, smiling, waiting for Haruka to finish, and then glancing quickly at the wall clock that pointed at ten o'clock. "You don't usually come at this hour."

He caught Haruka turn his head marginally in an attempt to face him. "It's Saturday tomorrow. It's fine."

They were forty minutes apart, yet Haruka had the will to visit him on most days he was free, and Makoto was more than happy. It was Nanase Haruka after all. The boy who hated effort and wasting energy, but there he was at his home in Chiba, bringing along dinner and what not.

"You should call auntie," Makoto suggested. Haruka seemed disinterested in doing so. There were afterschool days he would come over at Haruka's place instead, but his parents were usually there at night, so their conversations and actions were limited to 'friends-only'. "Your mom's alright with you coming over here so late?" He asked with concern.

There was a slight delay before Haruka answered, "…It's alright if it's you."

It was difficult to know what face Haruka had when he said things like that. And Makoto noticed way back that he would occasionally find a clever way to hide his face whenever he said something remotely embarrassing or out of character.

The Thai chicken green curry Haruka made was fantastic—_way_ better than the instant ones he bought from convenience stores. For the most part, dinner consisted of Makoto sprouting praises in between eating. It was embarrassing enough in Haruka's part, but Makoto thought it was indescribably cute; how he would turn away, often times with a slight blush, or how he would modestly deny his compliments, saying, "It's nothing special."

There was nothing left from the green curry after dinner. And when it was finally time for Haruka to leave, Makoto pursed his lips, just as the other was about to put on his shoes.

"Stay for the night."

It might have been likely that Haruka was putting on his shoes as slowly as possible, some sort of indication that he was waiting for Makoto to say those words all along. Almost midnight, Makoto simply smiled when Haruka didn't have any objections to skipping any more small talk in favor of heading straight to bed.

Makoto prepared for their goodnight sleep while he let Haruka wait in the bedroom. His bedroom was small. Nothing surprising there. Haruka had already seen it multiple times. There was a wardrobe on the right, a curtained window to the north, and a single bed on the west corner which always made Haruka wonder if it was large enough for Makoto.

"You left some clothes here if you want to change," Makoto said, pointing at the top drawer. Aside from shirts, there were bits and pieces of small possessions which Haruka had left, often times intentionally. "I'll be sleeping on the couch."

"_Wait_," He heard Haruka object almost instantly.

It surprised him. He spoke so little all night yet his voice sounded so forbidding. Green eyes were wide and he stared back at Haruka in disbelief. "Y-Yes? Do you need anything else?"

His tone unwavering, Haruka nearly shouted, "…I'll sleep on the couch…!"

"I won't let you sleep there. You're the gue—"

"_I'm_ sleeping on the couch," Haruka said again with resolute and barged out, complete with the stomping of his feet. Makoto followed him anxiously until they were in the living room and it was partly amusing how Haruka looked so angry at the pillows and blankets that were already spread over the couch and ready to be laid on.

"Haru…" Makoto whirred miserably. His stubbornness knew no bounds. The first time he stayed for the night he had no qualms sleeping on the bed, perhaps too jetlagged to protest.

Haruka proceeded in covering his entire body with the soft thick sheet before letting out an aggravated, "Good_night_."

"Haru, the couch is fine for me—"

The boy beneath the covers aggressively popped his head out from the sea of blankets. "You barely fit on the bed, what makes you think you'd fit in here?"

Even though he had a point and that Haruka was awfully adorable with his pretend tantrum, Makoto wasn't letting any of it get to him. There was no way he would let him sleep on the couch. He was too nice to let that happen. Having to let Haruka sleep uncomfortably made him feel terrible. So he did what had to be done. He took a solid step forward.

"…Mako—!"

All Makoto could think of was the fact that Haruka was shockingly light for a guy, and an athlete at that. He was expecting him to be heavier. That or maybe he was just that strong.

"Did you lose weight?" Makoto, innocent and calm, asked like there wasn't a person hanging on his right shoulder. Haruka kept struggling and protesting almost to the point of nearly falling down. He looked like a caterpillar hanging from a branch, the thick blankets still around his body.

"…Put me down, Makoto," Haruka grumbled, squirming like a worm until it became more and more difficult to carry him. He warned once more with a threatening tone, "_Makoto_…"

It wasn't easy to carry Haruka and even before Makoto could reach the bedroom, Haruka already knew it was near impossible to free himself even if he really tried. Meanwhile, Makoto knew he would give up. He knew that he had some kind of power, although not necessarily just physical, over Haruka, and that ever so often he would use it to his advantage to let things go his way.

Before Haruka could fully register what Makoto wanted to do, the man flung him from his shoulder and onto the bed. As Makoto was aware he had the power, he also knew Haruka _hated_ being overpowered, and so before he could land onto the softness of the bed, Haruka instinctively pulled Makoto's stalwart body along with him, earning a surprised scream, and Makoto ended up squishing him against the mattress.

"Ah, sorry," he apologized, but Haruka remained unharmed. They stayed like that for a while, and simply stared into each other's eyes, conversing silently and wordlessly. It was a crucial moment of impulse, a moment of need, that Makoto found himself wrapping his arms around Haruka's frame, all the while careful not to put too much weight over him. He was there, beneath him, so he took the chance. From the second he arrived, Makoto had wanted to hold him close, burrow his face in his neck, and absorb everything—from his scent, to his touch, to the beating of his heart. And he wondered if he would ever get used to it.

His senses short-circuited when he felt Haruka's touch. The boy beneath him countered just as thoughtfully, wrapping his arms around the other's neck and brushing his lips against his olive brown hair. It didn't bother them that they barely fit on that single bed. But at least they didn't have to continue arguing.

Because no one slept on the couch that night.

* * *

**A/N: In most parts of Asia, the word "mansion" usually refers to an apartment.**

**Here's something relatively longer! As you may have noticed I'm switching POVs every chapter and that's going to be a thing now. I'm on a roll because it's my semestral break and it's just so fun writing this for some reason. Thank you so much for reading~!**


	5. Selfish

"Haru-chan, get out of there, you're going to be late."

With half of his body dipped in water, Haruka dismissed his mother's subdued warnings. He didn't bother to reply and instead let himself sink deeper in the tub. If it weren't for the large bathtub, Haruka wouldn't be able to survive in his parent's house. It wasn't as if his parents weren't doing a good job in taking care of him, in fact they had been spoiling him with gifts, asking him what material things he wanted. But Haru wasn't shallow enough to be bribed with material things. He was still bitter, even just a little. He heard his mother knock on the bathroom door a few times, saying again and again he'd be late.

He answered this time in a monotonous shout, "My first class is at eleven." That was a lie. Makoto called in advance that he wasn't able to go to school with him, saying he had to do something, Haruka forgot exactly what, thus losing what little motivation left to attend his first period—which was at nine, and it was half an hour until nine, so he was late no matter how much he hurried.

It was enough to fool his mother, though. She had no idea of his schedule, or anything about his classes, so it was always easy to lie to her. "Oh, okay, then. I thought it was nine," she said, then laughed afterward. Haruka could hear the clicking of her high heels even from the inside. "I'll be going now, okay? I left some breakfast at the table."

When the next few minutes were quiet, Haruka assumed she had left. He felt terrible lying to his mother, but he wanted to stay in the bath for the rest of the morning. Aside from not being able to see Makoto, he was highly deprived of water. For days, he was unable to swim. Though there was a pool in his university, it was closed for the first several weeks, and was reserved for the swimming team.

Maybe he should join the swim team.

It got him thinking if Makoto would be willing to join, too. Knowing him, he probably would, as long as Haruka was there as well. Although meetings wouldn't be as carefree as his high school swim club, Haruka really thought of joining. He wondered how vigorous the training would be, considering it was a college level team. He reminded himself to ask Makoto the next time they would meet.

He sunk his whole body until his head was the only thing not underwater. At that moment, he couldn't help but feel mild nostalgia, suddenly recalling his high school graduation. Of course he remembered it. He ditched his graduation in a middle of a ceremony to completely and helplessly submerge himself in his tub. Because his graduation day was the same day he learned that Makoto got accepted in a university in Tokyo.

And he was pissed. Because Makoto never told him first, never even hinted that he'd be going to a university out of town. Remembering it made Haruka blow angry bubbles under the water. It was painful enough to hear the news from someone else, but it had hurt more because Makoto didn't tell him anything. The thing was, Haruka never planned on going to college, and even if he was forced into going to college by his parents, he intended to attend one in town, or at least some university reasonably near town.

But then there was Makoto, suddenly making decisions on his own. Once more, Haruka got himself mad and went underwater entirely, long enough until he could no longer hold his breath, then he popped out again.

He raised a hand in front of him, which was beginning to prune. Just like that time.

Back then, even though it was their graduation, even though it was March, Haruka closed the entire world by submerging himself in a tub full of nothing but ice cold water. He didn't even bother using the heater. He remembered feeling so devastated that he couldn't even make sense of his surroundings, couldn't even differ what felt hot and what felt cold. He wanted to be with the water as soon as possible that he didn't care. He breathed unsteadily as he clumsily fumbled for the faucet. He was such in a hurry that he forgot to take off his uniform, and realized it would be the last time he wore it. But he didn't care. His systems shut down completely.

The ceremony was held in the gym. When the third years were preparing in one classroom, the same one they used every day, Haruka was approached by a classmate.

"Hey, I heard Tachibana got into a university in Tokyo. Guess you're going with him, huh?"

Haruka felt his knees weaken. At first, he didn't believe it but when his homeroom teacher asked him the same question;

"Have you decided on a university? Tachibana-kun's going to one in the city."

And all Haruka wanted to do was run. He couldn't wait to get away. Upset and offended, he evaded Makoto even in the ceremony itself, thankful that the students were lined up chronologically by last name, making Makoto stand way far behind him.

The national anthem was sung. Haruka didn't even open an inch of his mouth. After that was the school song, and that was when Haruka ran away. From the corner of his eye, he saw Makoto's frantic eyes follow his running figure, but he knew Makoto wouldn't follow. Not because he didn't want to, but because he couldn't, not with his family around watching him with proud eyes.

Without even stopping to rest, Haruka reached his house—his cold, lonely house—and headed straight to the bath. And he sat in the tub of what seemed like ice water, still fully clothed, practically freezing. But still the water gave him refuge, it always had, and that was enough for Haruka.

It was a strange reaction. He was doing his best to get rid of the ugly, selfish thoughts that were eating him, putting his hand pressed to his mouth. It was hard to tell, even for him, whether he was angry, or miserable, or remorseful—it could have been none of these even. He refused to acknowledge the fact that Makoto was leaving him behind. Makoto knew he wasn't leaving town for college or work. Why would he do that? And what if Haruka didn't find out? Would Makoto leave without saying anything? At that point, Haruka doubted Makoto would even say goodbye. It was a bit of an exaggeration. It just broke him that Makoto's streak of honesty and openness suddenly came to a halt.

"…You idiot…" he said in an almost inaudible whisper, feeling that painful lump in his throat.

Nothing; He told him absolutely nothing and Haruka couldn't help but want to destroy something, _anything_. The very thought of Makoto leaving him crashed upon him. He couldn't describe it.

The only thing he knew was that he was scared to death.

He wanted very much to punch something, but instead, he hugged his knees and hid his face in his arms. His body felt heavy, and not just because his clothes were also soaked. He stayed like that, exactly on that same position, up until the exact second Makoto came bursting through the door.

"Haru!" Makoto huffed, his hands on his knees, panting. Did he run too? He looked tired and sweaty. Haruka wasn't ready. Nothing prepared him for that rueful flicker in Makoto's green eyes, so he swiftly turned his head away. He was frozen in shock, but he could tell Makoto already knew the reason he bailed out. The lights were off and the only source of light was the faint morning glow.

There was this impenetrable silence. And all Haruka could hear was Makoto's erratic panting. In his hands were two diplomas, so Haruka assumed the ceremony was over. But more than a minute had passed, and Haruka still hadn't found the strength to look directly at the man by his bathroom door. Why wasn't he saying anything? Haruka thought. He waited for him to speak, and hopefully he could gain some kind of nerve to actually speak himself.

"I'll get your towel," was all he said and walked out of the room. And so somehow Makoto's voice helped him get on his feet and actually get out of the tub. He hesitated at first, taking a deep breath.

Makoto wasn't wearing a smile when he came back with a towel. But he looked so awfully worried that he didn't hesitate to approach a miserable Haruka and wrap a towel around his shivering, clothed body. Haruka just stood there, unmoving, letting Makoto do what he wanted.

Haruka flinched when Makoto was about to leave the room again to get dry clothes. And his eyes focused on his retreating back. A spark of electricity livened his every nerve that made him dash towards Makoto, tackling him to the wooden floors.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Haruka asked in a broken voice. He was sitting on top of him now. Knees bent on both sides of Makoto's waist. "Everyone else knew except me…!" He sounded so disappointed and offended. It didn't help that it was Makoto, the last person who would hide things from him.

At that moment he saw Makoto closing his eyes shut, remorsefully so, then he felt Makoto shift. His head was in Makoto's arms, his face nestled tightly on his chest, then found himself seeing visions of darkness, images of loneliness, but despite it vanished just as quickly, under Makoto's embrace.

"I didn't know… how to tell you," Makoto began, his voice even more broken and fissured than Haruka's. It was so quiet he could hear nothing but Makoto's rushes of breath. "I thought it would be better for us to…" Makoto stopped, recognizing his words as a misadventure. A breathy laugh and a weak smile. "It was such a stupid idea. Because I realized that I needed you more than you needed me and it kills me. And it got me thinking that… I can't count on you forever, so I decided to leave. I want to stay, I honestly do. But I—"

"Then don't go," Haruka said, his words cutting him off and then drifted like the morning fog.

It would've hurt less if Makoto was honest from the start. That was what Haruka thought. And he never thought he would be the one to hold Makoto back.

"Don't go…" He repeated softly as he shivered above him. He felt long, crooked fingers run through his damp tresses of black, seemingly like ink in contrast to Haruka's icy pale skin.

"Haru, listen, please," Makoto murmured softly and windingly giving off that feeling that he had no control of his decisions. And by his voice alone Haruka knew he couldn't stay, even if he wanted to. Makoto took a deep, shaky breath. "The thing is, I can't do it. I thought I could. But I just can't. It's selfish, what I'm about to say, but let me be selfish just this one time…"

And Haruka waited, his bent knees on the verge of turning into ice.

"Come with me."

The delicate line of his lips trembled and Haruka's eyes beautifully glimmered, long dark lashes fluttering again and again because he couldn't stop blinking and he couldn't stop the water in his blue velvet eyes.

"I want you to come with me," Makoto said again as if trying to correct himself.

So Haruka did what he was told, without hesitation nor disdain, and let Makoto be selfish for the first time.

"I will…" His arms, his body, felt warm, warmer than the towel he had so greatly forgotten. He buried himself deeper beneath Makoto's earthy embrace, letting the man soak the remaining water that clung to his quivering body. "I'll go with you."

Then he woke up.

And he realized that a short dream of the past had the same rumination and gravity of an entire memory. His thoughts and dreams mingled together so vividly he wasn't sure whether it was a dream or a daunting abstraction. It wasn't that long ago, but he could feel his soul just as drenched as his body. Haruka noticed the wrinkles on his fingers and toes for spending too much time in the water, but most importantly, he noticed the painful stinging in his eyes when he opened them.

"Haru," he heard his name being called. And he froze in surprise. Makoto stood by his bathroom door, just like before, just like always. Makoto would've wondered why Haruka looked so relieved. "Your mom called me about your schedule. You're skipping school again, aren't you?"

With eyes shining with the morning afterglow, Haruka disregarded the fact that Makoto basically snitched on him and simply smiled, looking at him like he was magic. And Makoto was even more confused.

Haruka suddenly had the urge to go to class, his laziness and apathy disappearing like bubbles. Because he made a decision to come with Makoto. And he chose to attend the same university as him. He chose Waseda. Even though his parents preferred Keio, even though he himself preferred Kaiyodai, he chose to be with Makoto. When he first decided to come with him, his only thoughts were as long as he was in the same city as Makoto, everything would be fine. Then he realized early on that it wasn't enough. He needed to see him every day. He was so used to his company that he couldn't picture a day without his smile.

Makoto was the same, he had known that for a long time, and even more so when the man in a dark blue twill shirt reached out a hand, pulling him out of the tub. Haruka wasn't wet in his uniform just like on their graduation day. This time he was naked, and Makoto didn't waste time in cloaking him with a large towel, so endearingly, with the most devoted eyes, as if he was gift-wrapping his most cherished possession.

"You can still make it… if you… hurry…" Makoto's words seemed to float away in both surprise and mild confusion when Haruka, arms helplessly bound beneath the towel, embraced him without the use of his arms, if that was even possible.

He simply nestled himself upon Makoto's body until the other hugged back, but unlike Haruka embraced with arms as strong as the tides. With his nose pressed against the other's heart, Haruka was able to smell his scent; like freshly picked lavenders, and the sea breeze, mixed with the slightest, most gentle whiff of selfishness.

* * *

**A/N: I just really love hugs ok? Even more than kisses. This isn't angst isn't? After all it was pretty much going full-on sweet in the end. I'd really like to know your thoughts on the story. I made a playlist on 8tracks just for this. Thanks for reading! And thanks very much to the lovely comments! More updates and chapters soon hopefully!  
**


	6. Dreamcatcher

In Makoto's dreams, he couldn't help but feel like the worst person in the universe, unlike his sweet, innocent daydreams. He would dream about wanting Haruka all to himself, no one else was allowed to touch him. He dreamt about keeping him locked away. Away from the world. Away from others. But in contrast, there were times he would dream about Haruka leaving him because he was fed up, because he clung to him and he wasn't good enough. It pained him that the only one that made him so brilliantly happy was the enigmatic presence of Haruka, and was also the only one that made him just as sad.

"Haruka!" he would always call out. Again and again, until there was silence, and it would take him a moment to realize that Haruka roamed in his dreams like the waning moonlight, drifting away tortuously until Makoto could no longer shout his name. The echoes were painful in his ears, and the darkness of it all, of his surroundings, made him want to close his eyes. But he didn't, afraid that Haruka would disappear the moment he took his gaze away from him.

At times, his nightmares would consist of hurting him, the person he loved the most, now and again, physically, sometimes emotionally. All because he wanted him all to himself. But in reality, Makoto was the one in pain, the one being tortured. Makoto was too virtuous and pure, but these nightmares were as hungry as demons, feeding on his heart. Often he would wake up in cold sweat, reaching desperately for warmth that wasn't there. His hands unconsciously searched for Haruka, yearning for comfort, to help him chase away the demons responsible for his nightmares.

Dreams were created to be a world that was entirely different.

"Makoto."

He was thankful dreams weren't reality.

"Makoto?"

It was Haruka's voice that caused Makoto to break out of his trance. He heard sounds of wheels screeching. He made sure everything was real, and it was, making him sigh in relief. He took in his surroundings, realizing he had fallen asleep on the train. Then he glanced over to Haruka, who was sitting next to him, blue eyes staring at him like he was about to explore the Pacific Ocean. He must've looked so frightened to make Haruka stare at him like that.

"Are you alright?" Haruka asked, leaning in for a closer look, trying to search behind Makoto's troubled eyes. Was he trying to read his mind? Just seeing his face calmed him. Dreams were dreams. And he knew it was impossible for him to hurt such a person.

Makoto put up a front and just beamed at him. "Just a little nightmare."

"What was it about?"

The question boggled him, because when he tried to recall, nothing came up. "I… forgot." It scared him that some dreams could eat away a person then be forgotten on the next second. Makoto wondered if his short nightmare included Haruka, because when he woke up, his chest was aching and his eyes yearned for no one but Haruka. Feeling restless, he just shook his head. It was better that he couldn't remember.

"Haru, can you sleep over today?"

"I intended to from the start."

It was almost ten in the evening when they arrived in Chiba. After eating a convenience store dinner outside, something Haruka wasn't used to, they went back home to Makoto's apartment. They had agreed long ago that the couch was not made for sleeping and thus made a decision to sleep on the single bed, no matter how small it was for the two of them. When they were done, Makoto dimmed the lights.

Makoto was suddenly afraid. And he regretted having to turn the lights off. The inside of his mind was already dark to begin with, so he put on an act and tried not to appear scared. It didn't work. It was Haruka who was with him after all. The darkness wasn't usually a big deal. Ever since he had that nightmare that he failed to remember, he had been more sensitive.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, hair a bit damp from bathing, Haruka held that concerned expression he had been wearing ever since their train ride home. "Makoto," he said. Even in the dark, his eyes shone brightly with worry.

"I'm fine," Makoto assured with a smile. He slipped into the bed next to Haruka, who laid down on his side so he could further observe the taller man. "Goodnight."

Haruka half-heartedly replied, "…Goodnight."

Whether he was dreaming or hallucinating Makoto didn't know.

He found himself in the changeless port town he had grew up in, with its bundling houses that hid the ground from the sun. Makoto moved just to make sure he existed, to make sure he was himself. He curled his toes only to feel sand, only to find out he was by the sea. The sound of waves terrified him. They were so close. Somehow they were more violent, and the night was illogically too dark he couldn't see the waters, nor the moonlight that should be shining upon it. Not a single lantern was lit as ferocity lapped the ocean. And towards that ferocity someone else walked.

Within the dark, Makoto's eyes made out what appeared to be like the bride of the sea, with hair as dark as the night and skin as pale as pearls. He stumbled and prodded into the wet sands. What was a person doing there? It was too dangerous. Makoto didn't reach the shore, not even greeted by the beckoning waves.

And he realized.

He couldn't breathe.

He was underwater.

Looking up frantically, he saw that the surface was too far and he tried to swim up, desperately swinging his arms. And everything was black and he couldn't see anything but the surface and the rippled moon that suddenly decided to appear, its mocking light gazing down on him. He wanted to see how far he had gone and so he looked below him.

He was almost out of breath when he saw Haruka sinking towards an inescapable pit of black, motionless, life being sucked out of him. And what killed Makoto wasn't the water, it was his hesitation to save Haruka. It didn't matter that he still swam down again to rescue the person he needed more than air itself. What mattered was the hesitation, that tiny but torturous feeling of hesitation. It might have lasted for a second. But it killed him because he actually had to stop and think if he would save him.

The waters began their murmuring, mocking him as he hysterically swam and reeled towards Haruka who was quickly being dragged down by the darkness. He called him but it was scornfully subdued by the sea. Wishing and praying Haruka would wake up and swim his way back to the surface, Makoto reached out his hand.

But he was already out of breath.

He was out of breath but he needed to get Haruka. "Stop…!" He shouted out, bubbles and wavelets coming out from his mouth instead of a wakening voice. And slowly Haruka disappeared into the obscurity, into the bottomless ocean. He wished for nothing but for the water to stop dragging Haruka down.

"Haru—!"

Makoto was sitting up now, realizing he had just screamed from the top of his lungs and woke up from a poisoned, asphyxiating dream. Shifting toward the edge of the bed and blinking profusely in restlessness, Makoto wiped the sweat off his temples. Beside him was Haruka who was roused from his sleep. And while he panted and gasped for air that was absent from his nightmare, Haruka immediately clutched onto his back, his coiled forearms almost crushing Makoto's stomach.

"Haruka?" Makoto whispered his name weakly in surprise, feeling a little apologetic for waking him up. But the other didn't speak, instead he tightened his hold. Makoto looked back and saw he was still lying on his side, hips bent just so he could wrap his arms around his wide body.

He needed him so much closer.

So he crawled back to bed and laid down, facing Haruka, one cheek against the pillow. They remained like that in the darkness, Makoto's heart still racing with adrenaline. Haruka looked troubled, causing Makoto to laugh a little. He could tell Haruka was thinking of something to soothe his uneasiness, to make him forget of the nightmare. Because he couldn't purge the possibility of having another nightmare, Makoto kept his eyes open, afraid to fall asleep.

It was then Haruka inched his way up with his shoulders, and Makoto could only watch in curiosity. But he knew right away when Haruka cradled his skull, pressing Makoto's face to his chest. Green eyes widened and gleamed.

"I'm a dreamcatcher," Haruka claimed like a child, earning a soundless chuckle from Makoto. Was he trying to comfort him? If he was, it was working. He loved it when Haruka would say the most unexpected things. "It's supposed to keep nightmares away if you hang them above your head."

His stomach fluttered. Haruka was being too adorable. He couldn't describe how thankful he was. "Really, now?"

Taking Makoto's words as mockery, he heard Haruka groan and then playfully—but powerfully—tossed a leg over Makoto's waist. And it had hurt enough that Makoto had to ask him to stop. But at the second Haruka loosened his grip, he shifted slowly so he could pull Makoto closer into his arms while Makoto pushed himself against the other's torso, snuggling up to his calming heartbeat contentedly.

There was no doubt about it. Makoto realized. He'd die for him. He wasn't himself in that dream, and he wondered how he could hesitate saving someone as precious as Haruka. It was just a dream. A horrible, horrible dream.

"I'll be your dreamcatcher tonight, so…" Haruka promised him, cradling his head like a baby. Makoto could feel Haruka's lips move against his hair as he snaked his arms around the smaller man's waist. The rising and falling of his chest calmed Makoto so much, that he found his eyelids closing involuntarily. He heard Haruka speak again before planting a sweet kiss on his forehead, "…you can go to sleep. It's okay now."

There was such love and tenderness in Haruka's words, the way his voice lifted the air in the dark, the way his lips open and close in what seemed like slow motion. And Makoto slept peacefully the whole night, Haruka cradling him with silent lullabies and touches, successfully excavating Makoto's deepest, most poisonous thoughts, dispelling them like a how dreamcatcher would.

* * *

**A/N: This wasn't supposed to happen lol I just happened to watch something about dreamcatchers and got inspired to write. **

**Thanks for the reviews and faves! I really appreciate it~!**


	7. Underwater

Just as Haruka expected, the college swim club wasn't just an ordinary swim club. Out of breath and basically wheezing after climbing out of the pool, Haruka watched as the swimmers dived in with perfect forms. Watching them was enough for Haruka to think Rin's former swim team were for twelve-year-olds. Suddenly thinking about Rin made him wonder if his training in Australia was this tiring. It must be worse.

"Nanase!" An upperclassman called out as the guy climbed up from the water. Haruka heard his voice resonate throughout indoor pool. "Get my towel, would ya?"

He hated this social hierarchy. He never took advantage of it when he was a senior in high school because he felt it was stupid that a person just a year older could do whatever they wanted. Now, he was considered as the new guy. Creasing his brows and narrowing his eyes, he raised his tired body to stand up and walked grumpily to the locker room.

When he first tried out for the team, he was almost immediately rejected when he monotonously claimed, "I only swim freestyle." Although his intentions were innocent, he sounded cocky to the upper years that one of their fastest swimmers challenged him to a race. Makoto was with him and tried to appease the situation by apologizing but was too late when Haruka was already on the starting platform. Haruka never backed down on a challenge. He could say he was just as competitive as Rin, but a little less hot-blooded.

It was only a split second. But Haruka won.

Half of the upperclassmen were in awe, but some, just like the guy he just defeated, held a grudge against him. Haruka could still feel it even on his second week of club activities. Along with the other new blood, the seniors loved to stress them with odd jobs. And whenever it was Haruka's turn to swim, he was forced to perform the most exhausting routines.

And there he thought college students were more mature.

"Tachibana ain't coming today?" the same guy who asked for his towel asked. He was just a year above Haruka, taking Business Ad, but he wasn't quite sure. Haruka didn't bother remembering. Not even the guy's full name. Was he Uchida?

Haruka couldn't speak for a second with the mention of Makoto's name. "He'll be here this afternoon."

Even though it was Makoto who invited him to join, he hardly ever came to practice. It wasn't as if he wasn't interested. He had afternoon classes while Haruka got dismissed every two-thirty. And Makoto's only available time was during weekends or his short afternoon break every other day.

"Let's have a timeout everybody," the club's captain declared from afar, whistling to catch everyone's attention. A group of synchronized sighs were heard and the sounds of splashing water stopped as soon as the people climbed out of the pool and it disgusted Haruka how the members of the club were relived to get out of the water.

Haruka always waited for that certain lunch break. Everyone was out of the pool and he could swim as much as he wanted without anyone ordering him around like a slave. He was about to dive in to the pool alone when he was confronted by a rare species—a kind upperclassman.

"You wanna eat with us, Nanase?"

"No. I'll… just stay here," Haruka declined the offer as kindly as he could, uncertain whether the cockiness in his monotone voice was still seeping through. To make sure, he added, "Thank you, though."

The senior just laughed and nodded his head, waving a hand at him, "Okay, see you later, man."

"Yeah."

As soon as the last member got out of the building and turned the lights off, Haruka didn't waste a second and dived right into the pool, head first with no goggles. And then he heard it; the sweet, familiar sound of being underwater. Soft laps of bubbles clouded his eyes before he could see the pool floor. When the pristine blue waters calmed just as Haruka's mind regained tranquility, he let himself sink, unmoving, but still conscious, letting the water cling to his skin.

Just as he thought, the pool was better than any body of water. It wasn't as deep as the sea, wasn't as powerful as the ocean, and wasn't as superstitious as a lake. The water beckoned him to move and finally when he was out of breath, swam to the surface. And again he saw the dim, empty surroundings as he swam, gliding gracefully through the Olympic-sized swimming pool. There was no need for him to use his arms and hands as he elegantly slithered underneath the water.

It was pointless joining the swim club without Makoto, Haruka thought, subconsciously eyeing the entrance, waiting for the young man to come in. He used to like swimming alone, but ever since the formation of his high school swim club, Makoto's sentimentality towards swimming slowly started to rub off on him.

He glared at the gates again.

Even without being underwater, he felt like drowning without him.

Then he held his breath and descended, resurfaced, and descended again, swimming a little before coming back up to get a grasp of air. He lost track of time. Again, he let himself sink underwater. Opening his eyes, he could only see the lights fixed on the pool floor, somehow reminding him of the path of moonlight under the ocean, a spectacle he could never see in a pool. So Haruka swayed drowsily, hoping, wishing, that an ocean would find its way to him.

The moment before Haruka could close his eyes, the serenity of the water disappeared as a loud but muffled splash resounded around him like the sharp waves of the sea. Haruka met eyes with the ocean. Rather than sparkling blue, the ocean that disrupted his loneliness had eyes that reminded him of the gentle cadence of spring.

Straight from the earth and onto the shore, Makoto reached out to him. Haruka's mind tried to reconcile that Makoto was underwater with him, that it wasn't the ocean, but Makoto. And it was better that way. He couldn't find out how Makoto would magically appear during his most lonesome moments. But he was there and he couldn't ask for more.

Words were something elective when it came to the two of them. It didn't take long before they spoke without a sound and Haruka waited. He closed his eyes and waited, because he knew Makoto would hold him and tug him closer for a kiss.

Now, the man he thought initially as the ocean, breathed love onto his mouth, his fingers curled warily around his waist. And it amazed him how much they seemed to want each other even underwater. Sinking further in the midst of the deep pool, Makoto hoisted their bodies up with a kick, never breaking the contact of their lips. Almost breathless, none of them wanted to go up for air, catching each other's breath instead. Haruka dug his fingers into Makoto's hair to pull him closer. He opened his mouth to let out a tortured moan, eventually losing his breath.

Haruka resurfaced, desperately gasping for air. He became conscious that he was in the deepest part of the pool and he could no longer feel the bottom with his feet. But he floated almost effortlessly. A second after, Makoto's head popped out of the water, just as breathless. He didn't say anything, which surprised Haruka to some extent. The whites behind Haruka's blue eyes was beginning to redden because of the chlorine, so Makoto swam an inch closer and kissed his eyelids, then the corner of his mouth second, then his lips, breathing an instance of Haruka's name as he ventured further. He kissed him to within an inch of his life.

"Haru," Makoto sighed his name between each open-mouthed kiss, his voice low and raspy. Pulling away was the last thing on Haruka's mind, but he needed to breathe. Haruka pulled himself away and panted as he kicked his legs to keep afloat.

"Makoto," he breathed out in return, feeling familiar arms curving around his waist and tugging him closer. He wanted to dissolve into the water when he made eye contact. He turned his head to the side, his face red. "You're late."

"Sorry," Makoto said ruefully against the other's lips, kissing him again, shyly tracing the insides of Haruka's mouth with his tongue. Haruka was surprised Makoto was on the offensive side this time.

Holding each other close, Haruka found it harder to float on the water. And so he dropped all his weight on Makoto, circling his arms around his neck as well as curving his legs around the other's waist, still not taking his lips off him. They sunk for a second but Makoto managed to pull them up again. And with every push and kiss, they kept sinking and resurfacing, their buoyant bodies helping them stay on the surface. Haruka could no longer distinguish whether the dampness in his mouth was saliva or pool water. He didn't really mind, letting himself melt with a kiss far from gentle. In the middle of it all, he noticed Makoto was having a tough time to keep their bodies on the surface, so Haruka pushed the taller man's shoulders down and continued below.

His green eyes appeared aquamarine under the water. And his eyes were all he needed to know that Makoto loved him deeply enough that the ocean would be jealous. Together, they heard the words "I love you". There was no sound. Not even a single spatter. But it was definitely there, reverberating underwater.

* * *

**A/N: Classes were suspended because of a typhoon so I slept all day and woke up at 12am then started typing stuff. I just wanted a lovely scenario involving a pool so I ended up writing this lol.**

**I'd love to know what you think, though! Thanks for reading~!**


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